Ureshisou ni Shinagara, Naka Nakunaku
by Catsy
Summary: Songifc to "Vector", by Sakamoto Maaya. Tomoyo angsts over Sakura prettily.


_Ureshisou ni Shinagara, Naka Nakunaku_  
  
Author: Catsy (nekojita@ayashi.net)  
Content: songfic, shoujo-ai, angst  
Song: Vector  
Artist: Sakamoto Maaya  
  
--  
  
Hands as delicate and pale as the fabric they held worked at the needle,  
embroidering that which simply could not be entrusted to the sewing  
machine. Tomoyo's lips pursed in concentration, the tip of her tongue  
protruding just slightly as she worked the stitch over and under. Over and  
under. It was painstaking, laborious work, work which could easily fetch  
yen in the six-digit range, if she chose to sell it.  
  
She would not be selling it. It was for Sakura.  
  
Tomoyo tried to remember exactly when it was that she realized she loved  
Sakura. There had to have been a point when it progressed from best  
friends, to childhood infatuation, to real romance. Or was it imperceptibly  
gradual, the way leaves shift to calico colors in the fall? All Tomoyo knew  
was that it simply /was/. That was good enough; had to be good enough.  
  
But it wasn't.  
  
Told myself for a long time  
Don't go there  
You will only be sorry  
  
Eriol had politely suggested to her at one point that she and Sakura--and  
for that matter, many romantic relationships between women--suffered from  
the regrettable Japanese notion that women weren't permitted to make the  
first move. That if one or the other of them didn't break free of that and  
do /something/, they weren't ever likely to. Of course, when Eriol  
suggested something it was never /im/polite, and Tomoyo recognized on one  
level that he was right. It made her wonder why he'd say such a thing,  
since it was clear that Eriol approved of Sakura and Syaoran as a couple.  
  
Told myself so many times  
I just had to take a look  
in those faraway eyes  
  
Of course, he was both right and wrong at the same time. The psychological  
explanation made sense on the surface, but how could she explain to him her  
own reasons for remaining silent?  
  
Sakura's friendship was precious to her. From elementary school to middle  
school, to high school and beyond, Sakura's happiness sustained Tomoyo like  
lifeblood itself. She had but to walk into the room, and everyone  
immediately knew it--the temperature rose by a degree, moods lightened, and  
the room seemed somehow brighter for her presence.   
  
It wasn't that she didn't /want/ to be with Sakura. Nothing would make her  
happier than if she and Sakura could have a life together, bringing each  
other that fulfillment that only deep, bonding romance could.  
  
In them I saw a longing  
for something  
Maybe I couldn't give you  
  
But if she tried, and failed, what would be the cost? Was it worth the  
risk of harming her friendship with Sakura, for the sake of what she might  
never be able to have?  
  
Said it's all in my mind  
"It ain't nothing"  
  
Would it be worth risking everything, if all she got was a few stolen  
kisses, and something to giggle nervously about together when they were  
older? Was it worth the risk of hurting Sakura, or taking her away from  
what made her happy, to tell her how she felt just once?  
  
Don't say that  
Don't say that  
Darling no  
Don't say anything at all  
  
Tomoyo decided, as she had so many times before, that the answer was no.  
What she hadn't told Eriol, what she'd seen no reason to point out, is that  
Sakura probably knew anyway. She was naive and dense, but a remarkably good  
judge of character. Tomoyo found it impossible to believe, given how long  
they'd known each other, that Sakura could /not/ know how Tomoyo felt.  
  
  
Because I've seen it now  
Can't pretend anymore  
"It ain't nothing"  
  
The only explanation, the only sensible one, was that Sakura /did/  
know--and didn't feel the same way. And that rather than hurt Tomoyo's  
feelings, she simply didn't speak of it. That was fine--because even that  
painful truth made Tomoyo happy. It meant that Sakura cared enough about  
her feelings to spare them, and Tomoyo was willing to accept that.  
  
But it wasn't the same as telling her. It wasn't the same as taking  
Sakura's hand in hers, bringing it to her lips, whispering /aishiteimasu/,  
and watching Sakura's eyes light up with joy. It wasn't the same as walking  
together hand in hand and knowing that everyone else knew who and what they  
were, or holding each other in their arms after making love.  
  
Do you know what I mean?  
And have you seen it too?  
Do you know what I mean?  
Do you know?  
And I'll do anything  
Just tell me what it means  
Cause I can't live in doubt anymore  
  
Tomoyo's hands gripped the fabric of the dress tightly, her knuckles  
whitening. She squeezed her eyes shut to banish to image that leapt  
unbidden into her mind, but it did no good--it merely succeeded in  
squeezing a single tear out of eyes that she'd thought were dry. She jerked  
back as she felt the wetness, let it roll down her cheek rather than fall  
on the outfit she was working on. She would not cry--Sakura was in the next  
room, spending the night. She would not allow Sakura to see her like this.  
  
Do we try or should we  
just say goodbye  
  
Her mother had figured it out early on. She blessed it, of course, but was  
of the opinion that Tomoyo should either fish or cut bait--that if she  
wasn't going to tell Sakura, that she'd be better off leaving her to go her  
own way after high school. Tomoyo knew she meant well, knew that her mother  
only wanted to spare her the pain she'd gone through when Nadeshiko had  
married Fujitaka.  
  
If you'd rather be somewhere  
that's not here  
then you just gotta tell me  
Cause there's so much more to life  
than pretending  
  
In truth, she'd half-expected Sakura to be the one to break off the  
friendship. Not maliciously, because Sakura would never do anything  
malicious to hurt someone, least of all a friend--but on any one of the  
numerous occasions when Tomoyo had been a little /too/ enthusiastic with  
her professions of how wonderful Sakura was, in front of her. When they  
were younger, it had occasionally discomfited Sakura, which Tomoyo was  
grateful for--Sakura was so open about things like that, it let her know  
when she'd crossed the line. But as they'd grown up, throughough junior  
high and high school, Sakura had gradually ceased being put off by Tomoyo's  
displays. Was it that it didn't bother her anymore, or was she just getting  
better at keeping it inside?  
  
Don't you know  
Don't you know  
Darling for you  
I'd do anything at all  
  
Sakura had only to say it, and Tomoyo would do it. If Sakura had ever told  
her, "Tomoyo, this bothers me," Tomoyo would stop. If Sakura had ever asked  
her for anything, Tomoyo would give it to her if it were in her power. And  
if Sakura had ever asked Tomoyo to be hers, to any extent or in any  
capacity, it would be so before the words had time to pass her lips.  
Anything.  
  
I wanna be with you  
but that look in your eyes  
tells me something  
  
Tomoyo would do anything for Sakura's happiness... including giving up on  
her own.  
  
Do you know what I mean?  
And have you seen it too?  
Do you know what I mean?  
Do you know?  
And I'll do anything  
Just tell me what it means  
Cause I can't live in doubt anymore  
  
But it wasn't really giving up her own happiness, was it? If Sakura was  
happy, that made Tomoyo happy. She was the very embodiment of the word  
/setsunasa/--that simultanaeity of bittersweet happiness, the thing which  
was a source of both sweet yearning and pain. It was embroidered into her  
being as inextricably as the lace she set about assiduously sewing to the  
cuffs of the dress.  
  
  
I wanna know  
can you tell me  
I wanna know  
will you tell me  
is it hello  
is it good-bye  
  
At last, she was done. Tomoyo held up her handiwork and inspected it  
critically. No, a seam on the collar was misaligned; it would need to be  
redone. Fortunately, it was just a matter of ripping out the stitches and  
running that part through the sewing machine again. Tomoyo did so, letting  
the mindless automation of the work drive thought from her mind and dry her  
eyes.  
  
  
She was grateful for the dry eyes a few minutes later, as Sakura knocked  
once and opened the door without waiting for a response.  
  
"Sakura!" Tomoyo exclaimed. "Wait just a minute, it's /almost/ done..."  
  
I gotta know  
won't you tell me  
I gotta know  
you can tell me  
is it hello  
or just good-bye  
  
"I'm sorry," Sakura said sheepishly. "I know you don't like to be  
disturbed when you're working..."  
  
Tomoyo shook her head firmly, as if the very notion that Sakura could  
disturb her was absurd. "No, no, it's just that I wanted you to see it when  
it was finished... I'm afraid it's not my best work," she added with a  
pensive glance at the uneven stitching. "I'll need to tailor it a bit, of  
course."  
  
I gotta know  
can you tell me  
I gotta know  
will you tell me  
is it hello  
is it good-bye  
  
This didn't seem to matter one bit to Sakura, who stared at Tomoyo's  
latest creation with open-mouthed wonder. She rushed forward and felt at  
the silken texture, rubbed the lace between her fingers. "I don't believe  
you for a minute," she said insistently, her eyes fairly sparkling. "It's  
/wonderful/."  
  
I gotta know  
won't you tell me  
I gotta know  
you can tell me  
is it hello...  
  
Sakura set the dress aside and hugged Tomoyo tightly. "Thank you, thank  
you, thank you!" She drew back and kissed Tomoyo on the cheek, taking her  
hands in hers. Tomoyo drank in the touch as if it were life itself, and  
committed the kiss to memory for all time. If Sakura never kissed her  
again, nor held her hands like this, Tomoyo would still feel complete,  
having known this moment. "Oh Tomoyo, what would I do without you? It's the  
most beautiful thing I've ever seen."  
  
Or just good-bye...  
  
Tomoyo smiled back at her friend. A thousand words passed through her  
mind, in every way she knew how to say them. /Daisuki desu. Aishiteimasu.  
Je t'aime. I love you./ Instead, however, she gazed at the dress, and  
smoothed wrinkles out of the white fabric. "That's good, because you'll be  
the most beautiful bride in the world."  
  



End file.
